Page 2 of 3

Posted on

Our Story of Hope- Cain Family (Lilliana)

Lilliana Joy was supposed to be our rainbow baby, before I even knew what that term meant.  Once we made it through the first trimester, we were overjoyed!  Lilliana was perfect: no genetic issues, no pregnancy-related concerns, everything was functioning perfectly. Except none of that mattered. 

During my third trimester, at 31 weeks, our precious daughter’s heart stopped beating.  We don’t know why, and we don’t get to find out this side of Heaven. I had to wait 4 torturous days at home with my daughter already gone before being induced.  I just wanted to see her face and hold her.  My induction did not go as any of us had planned.  The result was a very scary placental abruption, and an emergency C-section.  Through it all, I continued to cry out to God to just help me through this.  Lord, help me through my first spinal, my first surgery, my fears, my first glimpse of Lilliana, and the overwhelming sound of silence after she was born.  She was delivered on a Sunday, 11/30/14 at 4:02 p.m.  There has never been a more deafening sound than a quiet room after your baby is born.  We were able to hold her, look at her, and try to cherish our short time with her.  She was 3 pounds 12 ounces, 16 ¾ inches long, and had dark hair.  She was perfect.  And we didn’t get to keep her.  She was already with Jesus. 

Lilliana’s life verse: “The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and He helps me.  My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise Him.” –Psalm 28:7

Did you know that to experience sorrow does not eliminate your joy?  That sorrow can actually deepen our capacity for joy?  It’s not natural to experience profound joy in the face of heartache.  It is the very joy of Christ within us.  God showed me that joy, in little glimpses after Lilli was gone.  He stayed by my side, comforting me through my heartache, helping me to survive this, the unthinkable, every mother’s worst nightmare.  

I read this quote in the months after we buried Lilliana.  It resonates.

“It’s a delicate balance between letting yourself grieve the way you need to and functioning in a world that keeps reminding you of what you have lost.  Live life gratefully.” –Angie Smith

Today, I am grateful to have three amazing little boys at home, one precious daughter in Heaven, and one miraculous daughter on the way.  I don’t know what our future holds, but I do know that these children are God’s children, not mine.  I will love them every day that I have them here with me, for as long as that may be.  

I gladly relinquish control to God, and pray fervently that we get to raise this baby with her big brothers.  Our hope is in Heaven, and I cannot wait to all be reunited again.

“Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You. It is well, with me.”

Posted on

Our Story of Hope- Rogers Family (Everly)

On June 30, 2017 my life changed.   The little white test said the words I had never before seen, “Pregnant”.  We got pregnant easily, but I still was in shock!  We then spent the next few weeks keeping the ultimate secret.  I watched what I ate, double checked what medications were safe, drank more water and started working out.  I was determined to have a healthy pregnancy so I could have a healthy delivery.  My first trimester was a breeze.  Minus some added tiredness, I was golden.  Never had any morning sickness and if I felt a little weak, a snack fixed me up every time.

We told family around 6 weeks but waited until the “safe” zone to make our pregnancy public knowledge.  Everyone was so excited and just positive their gender guess was correct.  My response was always along the lines of “you have a 50% chance of being right!”  October 24 we had our 20 week anatomy scan. Our child was being less than cooperative.  Hal laughed and said, “that is you in there!”   I apologized while laughing to the ultrasound techs for my child being so difficult.  Everything looked perfect, just a petite baby at 13 oz.  After seeing my OB, we had to go back to see if we could find out the gender.  Stubborn baby thought they needed to sit with their legs crossed covering themselves.  Hal & I all but started taking bets.  I said girl, he said boy.  The ultrasound techs said they were pretty sure baby was a girl. I laughed a joyous laugh.  Hal became silent.  It was funny watching his face.  You could tell his mind had just started running wild on how he would parent a girl, protect a girl, teach a girl, love a girl.  We then kept her gender a secret until the gender reveal for our loved ones on November, 4.  Everyone was ecstatic!

I had horrible headaches during the week of Thanksgiving.  I figured it was just the stress of traveling to see family all over the northern part of the state.  A week after Thanksgiving and after a stressful day and hormonal breakdown, we went to the store & got a blood pressure cuff.  I felt my blood pressure may have been elevated.  Sure enough, it was.  After multiple readings spaced out over several hours we decided to go to Labor & Delivery Triage, just in case.  I assumed we would go to the hospital, they would set me up on the monitors for a few hours then send me home.  I assumed they would probably laugh at me as an overly cautious first time parent.  And in part I was right.  My blood pressure wasn’t insanely high,  but baby Everly was having decels as the nurse called them.  That is where the heart rate dips low or decelerates.  That isn’t always a reason for concern,  but our sweet nurse had an intuition to have it checked out further.  We stayed the night in the hospital.  Around 8 am, I was wheeled in for a detailed ultrasound.  When your ultrasound tech jokes around and smiles with you, you know everything is great.  When they are serious, you learn real quickly something is wrong.  I started crying.  I didn’t even know what the issue was, but I knew it was serious.  Once the Maternal Fetal Medicine (MFM) doctor came in, he gave us a diagnosis.  The placenta wasn’t sufficiently giving Everly the nutrients she needed to grow.  She was growth restricted (IUGR).  She was 25 weeks 4 days at this point, but was measuring the size of a 20 week baby.  We were told the chances of survival were not great and to go home and prepare for her to “expire” in my womb in the weeks ahead.

We began seeing my OB weekly.  Every appointment I was terrified there would be no heartbeat.  And every appointment resulted in the same strong heartbeat.  We cried, A LOT.  We prayed more than we cried.  Every day I thanked God for another day with a live baby in my womb.  For a baby to be viable after birth, they have to weigh 500 grams which is 1 lb 2 oz.  That is the smallest they are able to intubate.  And a 1 pound baby would most definitely need to be intubated after birth to assist with breathing.  Lungs are the last organ to fully develop in the womb.  On December 28, we went for another ultrasound.  We prayed for a 500 gram baby!  She had already survived a full month after a grim diagnosis.  We knew God had big plans for Everly.  And she sure loved showing us what a fighter she was.

God answered our prayer, she was 523 grams!  Our MFM decided it would be good to go ahead and start steroids to help strengthen her lungs.  We had also made it to the third trimester which was HUGE! After getting my first steroid shot, my MFM called me from his cell phone.  He told me after talking to the head of Neonatology (head of NICU) he thought it would be best to deliver soon. I’m freaking out.  I have no idea what to expect.  I had my second steroid shot 24 hours later and had my bags packed just incase.  We called the MFM to meet us for the shot.  He told us he wanted to wait a few more days.   My OB was out of town at this time, so I was completely ok with waiting a few more days until she was back.  We scheduled another ultrasound for January 3 to check the cord flow.   This time our MFM was in the room during the scan.  He looked at us and said, “I think I’m ready to see her on the outside.”  We didn’t ask many questions.  We knew delivery was the best option at her survival.  Hal and I had decided the best chance at us having a live baby was a cesarean birth.  The risks of stillbirth were too great with the induction of a vaginal birth.  We went home, finished packing our bags and were back at the hospital less than 2 hours later to get checked in for the birth of our daughter.

At 2:16 pm on January 3, 2018, Everly Jade Rogers came into the world via cesarean.  She weighed a mighty 570 grams or 1 lb 4 oz and 12 inches long.  She literally came into the world kicking!  She was the strongest, most beautiful baby I had ever seen.  Shortly after her birth, she was whisked away to the NICU with her daddy in tow.  She was remarkable.  She may have been the size of a Coke bottle, but once in her presence, you quickly forgot her size.  She had the biggest personality ever!  She kicked and threw her arms around all the time.  At one point, they had to restrain her little arms & legs to be able to put an IV catheter in.  The nurse told us “your daughter defeated me.”  We laughed, Everly Jade didn’t know she was little.  After less than 24 hours she was extubated and changed to a CPAP machine.  This is the same type of machine you get if you have sleep apnea and snore at night.  She was doing so well!  Shortly after CPAP, they changed her AGAIN to nasal cannula.  This is the same type of nasal tube I had been given during my cesarean.  I was the proudest mom.

The only way I have found to describe the next few days is as follows.  She did so well, until she didn’t.  It seemed every time we would get 1 step ahead, we would get followed with 2 steps back.  We couldn’t get ahead of her.  Her belly started swelling late one night.  The doctors did ultrasounds to figure out if she was bloated due to air or liquid.  At the time, nothing could be determined.  On Sunday, the beginning of the end started.  Her body was becoming acidic.  If the acid in her blood wasn’t able to be under control, her organs would start to fail.  The doctors quickly decided to put in some “pigtail” drains in her abdomen to release the pressure created from the bloating.  At this time, we realized she had liquid in her abdomen which was probably causing the acidity.  We were sat in a room with the doctor and asked the question no parent is ever ready to answer.  “Do you want us to resuscitate your daughter if her heart rate drops?”  Hal and I looked at each other.  We weren’t ready for this type of parenthood.  I finally answered, “can you resuscitate her until we can make a decision based on the situation?”  The doctor agreed and assured us that could be done.  She also told us if her acidity level didn’t change, her organs would begin failing and in a sense she would become pickled from the inside out.  We didn’t know what to do.  So, we prayed.  We asked our friends to pray, our families to pray.  We even asked our preacher to come pray with us as soon as he was done with his Sunday sermon.  We were so close to losing our baby girl.  After her next blood gas, the doctor came to us in disbelief.  Her ph level was starting to come back to normal.  We were overjoyed.  Her next blood gas came back.  It was right where it needed to be.  That evening, I asked the doctor if she was going to sleep that night.  She probably thought I was crazy.  I wanted to know if she felt comfortable enough to close her eyes that night or if she would be near in case of another episode. She told me, she was going to sleep so I should too.  I took great relief in that, and did my best to rest.   She congratulated us again on our daughter. She knew congratulations were in order because of the close call of losing her.  Monday was slightly better than Sunday, but just as bad in a sense.  Due to how distended Everly’s belly was over the weekend, her lungs ended up collapsing.  I stood outside her room, while another surgery took place on my 1 lb diva.  This time, they were placing tubes in her lungs to help where they had collapsed.  At this point, my angel baby is on sedatives and paralytics.  It’s hard seeing our baby lay there so still.  They placed her on the paralytic since she was such a wiggle worm!  They were afraid she would start tugging on drains or tubes that she didn’t need to be messing with.  She was notorious for pulling on tubes.  That night, we went home to rest and left my dad on Everly watch for the second night in a row. It was the worst feeling of my life.  I had a feeling I didn’t need to be far from my baby girl, but I also knew I was helpless in her care.  Around 2:30 or 3:00am, my dad called Hal and told him it was time for us to come.  The doctors were running out of options.  According to my dad, before we got there the monitor screen was blank.  No heart beat, no blood pressure, no oxygen.  He circled the doctors, nurses, my mom (who had beat us there) and anyone else in the room and prayed.  He was terrified we would walk in and see the blank monitors.  After praying, a beep occurred and everyone looked up.  Her heart rate was back where it should be.  Another beep, her oxygen level was picking up.  Another beep, her oxygen level was back to 100%.  Everyone in the room starred in awe at the monitors.  The doctor told my dad, “I believe we just witnessed Divine Intervention.”  Hal and I walk in at this moment.  I couldn’t understand what the fuss was about, her levels looked great!  Her blood pressure wasn’t measuring but I figured she had just moved where it wasn’t able to get a good reading.  I put my fingers on her tiny blood pressure cuff & I begin to pray.  After less than a minute, her blood pressure is perfect.  The next little bit happened so fast.  As quickly as everything went good, it went bad just as quickly.  Her levels started tanking.  We all step back as chest compressions & oxygen are administered.  I sat next to her praying & singing “He’s Got the Whole World in his Hands”.  The doctors and nurses have exhausted every measure by this point.  The doctor looks at me with love and sadness in her eyes and says, “I think its time for you to hold her.”  I knew what that meant.  It meant it was time for my daughter to pass away peacefully in my arms.  We asked if we could call our preacher so we could have her baptized first.  She agreed.  The doctors and nurses then took turns doing chest compressions and oxygen on Everly as Hal and I took turns holding her.  Once our preacher arrived, he baptized our sweet baby, Everly.  At 4:51 am, Everly Jade Rogers went to be with Jesus while being held in her parent’s arms.  While nobody prepares you for the birth of a child, they certainly can’t prepare you for the loss of a child.

The rest of the month was a fog.  I had been pumping milk for Everly every 3 hours while she was alive.  She’s deceased so now what?  My body didn’t know she was gone, so I kept producing milk.   The milk that was going to be her lifeline is now a painful reminder that she is no longer on earth. Before her funeral, we decided I would keep pumping to avoid mastitis and that I would donate all of my milk to a baby I had found out had RSV.  What was supposed to be a few weeks of pumping, turned into months.  In 16 weeks, I roughly pumped 20 gallons of milk.  Even though my pumping journey is done, Everly’s milk is still being consumed by the sweet baby we donated to.  Even though today marks 4 months since her birth and the 4 month mark of her death is fast approaching I can tell you, she impacted far more people in 6 days that I have in all of my years.  People from all over the world have been lucky enough to learn of a loving God that is providing peace and comfort to Everly’s grieving family.  With Mother’s Day around the corner, I know I am a mother.  I may not look like a mother to a stranger, but the mark she left on my abdomen and my heart will stay with me forever.  I told my dad that since becoming a mom I will never be the same.  He replied, “You are forever changed, forEverly changed”

Posted on

He is Hope

He is Hope.

I came across this picture recently, and it took my breath away. I had forgotten that this was the backdrop to the funeral service for our daughter Zoe. As I gazed at the screen, it seemed only fitting, now knowing what He had planned for our family, and the ministry- Hope Family Care, that He would birth out of this event.

As we sat there that day very much engulfed in our own grief, I had no idea that God would use our precious Zoe to bring Hope to others in the midst of their own grief and loss.

When I see this picture, I am reminded that God knew, even before she was born, that He wanted to use our daughter’s life and death to bring hope to others. I am reminded that the God who understood the loss of a child; was comforting me, and I am reminded that God willingly gave up His Son so that one day I (and others) could have Hope.

From the point of view of a father who has lost a child, Easter reminds me that God (the Father), isn’t asking me to walk through anything He himself wasn’t willing to walk through. He accepted the pain, the devastation, and the heartbreak, all because He could see the whole picture and had the end in mind. He didn’t allow Himself to get stuck on the here and now, but loved our sinful world so much that He was willing to sacrifice now for an ultimate goal of resurrection power.

Even in the midst of our darkest tragedy, God is still good. He is still good not because of what He does, but because of who He is. Good is his nature, his character, everything about Him is good.

Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

Not just that, but look at the verses after, and see what else He promises…

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?

So this Easter, remember that even though you may be walking through ‘the valley of the shadow of death’,   and it doesn’t feel good that He who is good is walking right beside you.

HE is HOPE

Posted on

Our Story of Hope- Adkins Twins (Sydney Kate & Rylan)

For 1,126 days we desperately prayed for the Lord to bless us with a baby. We tried countless fertility medications, treatments, and procedures, 3 failed IUIs and 1 round of IVF. Praise the Lord, IVF worked the first round and we were blessed to be pregnant with not one, but two precious miracles. We were so excited when we found out we were having a boy, Rylan Kyle, and a girl, Sydney Kate. I had textbook IVF where everything went perfectly and the pregnancy, for the first 20 weeks, was amazing with only a few very minor bumps in the road. At 20 weeks and 3 days, my water broke very unexpectedly for Baby A (Rylan) and our lives were turned upside down. We were so unsure what our journey was going to look like from that point forward, but we knew no matter what, we were going to give the glory to God.

We decided from the beginning of our fertility journey that we were going to be transparent through the process and open up about our struggles in hopes that it would bring awareness to an often secretive and taboo topic. We also wanted to bring hope to those going through similar trials and assure them that they were not alone. We shared videos of my husband, Garrett, giving me injections, and kept everyone updated throughout the entire process. Shortly after we found out that IVF worked, we announced we were pregnant. We did not want to wait the typical 12 weeks due to being so open throughout the process.  When my water broke, we decided to continue the transparency and update people often about the #JourneyToAdkinsBabies because this was a part of our story and we could use all the prayers we could get.

Unfortunately, at 23 weeks and 2 days, on December 28, 2017, my contractions were not able to be stopped despite every attempt possible, and my doctor told us I would for sure deliver Rylan but he was hoping he could hold off on delivering Sydney Kate until a later date. When they came in to give me the epidural, I began to have to push and it was too late to receive the medication. I was terrified. Terrified because it was way too early and I knew at 23 weeks they had just barely crossed the threshold to “viability” and the chances of survival were still slim, and terrified because I was not mentally ready to deliver. As silly as it sounds, I had not read all the books yet, taken the birthing classes, or developed my birth plan. It was not time for any of those things, and yet here I was being rushed into the operating room to deliver. It only took two pushes and my sweet baby boy came into the world. They held him up for us to see his beautiful face. He was so extremely tiny but so extremely perfect. When they checked Sydney Kate’s position, she had flipped due to having extra room after I delivered Rylan and was coming out feet first so I had to be put to sleep for an emergency c section. When I came to after being put to sleep, I immediately began asking about my babies. How were they? Were they stable? How much did they weigh? When could I see them? The moment I saw my babies for the first time was the greatest moment of my entire life. They were so tiny and had so many things attached to them, but so completely perfect. Rylan weighed 1 pound 8 ounces and Sydney Kate weighed 1 pound and 4 ounces.  Even though they were born so early, they had everything they needed. Beautiful long eyelashes, full lips and tiny fingernails. Our major concern was lung development for both babies but especially Rylan, since he had not had amniotic fluid for 3 weeks. We were so hopeful that the Lord would hear our desperate prayers and the prayers of all those around us and heal our babies. But we knew that no matter what the circumstances were or the outcome, He was still good. And we would continue to give Him all the glory and praise.

Unfortunately, Rylan’s lungs were not developed enough and he went to be with Jesus 7 hours after delivery. The NICU was so amazing and allowed us to hold our baby so our family could pray over him and love on him while he transitioned from this world into the arms of Jesus. During that time that we held our perfect baby boy, time stood still. Nothing else in the world mattered except for loving on our baby boy and holding onto hope that our baby girl would be okay.

Rylan

Sydney Kate fought so very hard for 5 days but her little body was tired and on January 2, 2018, she joined her brother in heaven. Again, we held our baby girl and prayed over her and loved on her while she transitioned from this world into the arms of Jesus. And again, time stood still. But we chose to still believe that He was still good. I remained in a fog for the next few days, running on very limited sleep and lots of love and prayers from those around us. My friends and family remained strong while I felt that I couldn’t.

Sydney Kate

I continued to share our journey online and to give the glory to God for our precious miracles and the brief but powerful time we shared with them. I shared my broken heart but left out the messy. If you are a grieving mama, then you know exactly what I am talking about. The not so pleasant thoughts, the anger and bitterness, crying so hard that you get physically sick and cannot breathe. When reality set in, the devil tried to interfere and I felt like I was in a horrible nightmare. How on earth was I going to function when I had to give both my babies back that were so longed for? How was I going to go home to an empty house with a nursery that was ready for two healthy babies? And how was the world continuing for everyone else while ours had completely stopped? The constant reminder of pain my body was in from delivering both ways for babies I didn’t get to keep, milk that kept flowing for babies I did not have to feed, and a nursery awaiting babies that would never come home, almost became too much. I felt broken. Physically and emotionally, I was more broken than I had ever been or even imagined possible. But thank God that is not how my story ends.

I awoke figuratively and literally the day before the funeral with such a sense of peace. I had dreamed the night before that the last voices our babies heard were ours praying over them, and the first face they saw was our Lord and Savior. At 23 weeks, our babies eyes were still fused shut and would not open for a little while, and I believe the Lord was sending me a message of peace through my sleep. I needed that message so desperately. To have peace to cling to and then it began to awake me to realize that I had so very much to be thankful for. Many mamas do not have the luxury to hold their babies at all, to see who they looked like, to kiss them, or to etch their every detail into their memory. While I was only able to love on my babies very briefly, I find such comfort in knowing that they knew our touch, our scent, our voices, but the first face the saw, was the face of Jesus. And their first steps are on streets of gold. And they will be there waiting on us when we are called Home.

In a few days it will be two months since I delivered the most beautiful and perfect babies and experienced a love that is completely indescribable. While the pain we experienced having to bury both of our babies was the worst thing we have ever had to face, I know that this was of no surprise to the Lord. And He did not forsake us. In fact, I believe He was there alongside us, weeping with us. During the past two months I have been on maternity leave and had a lot of time to heal physically and emotionally. While I experienced the darkest moments of my life after I lost both of our twins, the Lord did not leave me there. He was able to handle my outbursts of anger and despair and love me through it. And help me to see that they served their purpose and helped touch thousands of lives throughout our #JourneyToAdkinsBabies on social media.

Throughout every emotion I have faced since our loss, I have always clung to hope. Hope that the Lord would heal our broken hearts, hope that we would see Rylan and Sydney Kate again, hope to feel joy again, and hope that we would eventually be blessed with earthly babies in His timing. During this time, I have grown so much closer to the Lord. I have clung to scriptures and dug in the Word more than I have before. I listen to Christian music constantly to fill my extra moments with songs of praise. I have grown closer to my husband in ways I never thought possible. I have read inspirational books written by grieving mamas. I have reached out to other grieving mamas because unfortunately, they completely understand and can offer insight as to how to navigate these unfamiliar waters. I have started counseling where my therapist encourages “leaning into the pain” which I find to be very helpful. I have entered their nursery and have began writing their story as a way of healing for me and also to help preserve every detail of their beautiful lives. Taking it day by day and feeling a little bit stronger each day. Without faith, hope and love, I don’t know where I would be. I have needed all three of those things desperately to get through each day. And I know that those three things have helped bring so much healing to my mama heart and will continue to do so each and everyday.We will forever be grateful for the time we had with him, even though selfishly a lifetime on earth would still not have been enough. But eternity with them praising our Lord and Savior is more than enough. And until then, we will continue to praise the Lord.

Because even through it all, He is still good.

Posted on

Dear Woman Who Has Never Lost a Child,

 

Dear Woman Who Has Never Lost a Child,

I was once in your shoes; with two sons by my side and a daughter in my arms.  When I was pregnant with both of our boys, I was oblivious to that fact that other moms around me were hurting; many in silence.

I didn’t know anyone by name who was living through a miscarriage, the birth of a still born baby, nor a parent who lost a child to SIDS. Our close friends had lost their child to illness as a toddler, and that was a pain I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Yet, should I have felt guilty that I had a child and others did not? Absolutely not. Should I have not shared the immense joy of our sons’ births publicly? Absolutely not. Guilt is never the answer.

Should I have been more thankful and less quick to complain about pregnancy or motherhood; yes. Yes I should have.

Sometimes I forgot that:

There are many women begging for the aches of pregnancy.

There are many women longing for long nights awake with a fussy baby.

There are many women who long for someone to call them ‘Mom’.

There are many women who feel like God is answering everyone else’s prayers but theirs.

And all those things that we complain about, are exactly the things that someone else is begging for.

Three years after our second son was born, I was pregnant with Zoe, and things were much different. This time, eight of my friends and family lost their precious growing baby through miscarriage during my pregnancy. It was incredibly hard to know what to say or do. I had many conversations with God about ‘Why us?’, “Why did we get to keep our baby?’, and ‘How was I supposed to respond as the only one who was still pregnant?’ I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to celebrate publicly at times, because I didn’t want to hurt them; but I did know the last thing they would want to hear was my complaining.

Yet three months after she was born, our precious baby girl was no longer with us anymore. At three months of age, she closed her eyes for a nap and then opened them again in the arms of her Heavenly Father. She was able to meet many of our friends and family’s little ones before their earthly parents even got to meet them.

All of the sudden, things changed. All of the sudden I became a part of the group of women who HAD lost a child. With feelings and emotions that I’d never experienced before, I began to swim through a rip tide of emotions. However, the best thing I did was to allow myself to feel the bottom of the ocean. As my feet scrapped across the bottom, God gave me the strength to push off, and steadily I began to rise back up eventually above the rip tide. For many years as a teenager and even in college, I had taught this ‘life saving’ technique of pushing off the bottom to my swim students; it was finally time to practice what I had taught.

You see, that is where many of your friends are, they are stuck spinning around day after day in that rip tide of emotions. Therefore, they may be what seems overly emotional at times, extremely sensitive, or downright insensitive to you. But here is the truth, they need you. They also need you to let them feel the bottom, so they are better positioned to push off when they are ready. Extra grace is required. They, deep in their hearts, are happy for your pregnancy. They want to hold your baby; but maybe are too scared to feel the feelings that come with that. They want to come to your baby shower, but aren’t sure if they could emotionally survive. So what do you do? You include, invite, and share with them anyway; you let THEM choose what they are ready for.

Every mom who has lost a child has different needs, however, the thing that fills my heart with constant joy, is to see a mom who has their baby, but is so over the top grateful for all that comes with that- the aches and pains of pregnancy, and exhaustion and the sleepless nights of having a newborn. I don’t believe you have to go through a miscarriage, still birth, or infant loss to have a grateful heart as a mom… rather, it’s about where you choose to focus. Your gratefulness as a mother is a gift to your child, but it is also a gift to those around you.

October 15th is Miscarriage and Infant Loss Awareness Day, another day for you to support your loved ones who have lost a child- Send them a note, share a picture that you have of their child or them during their pregnancy, recognize their child and their pain.